A small phone that fits in my pocket vs. a larger phone that I can actually, you know, see

Unless you're a woman who regularly wears pants and keeps your phone in your pocket (and I'm sure there are many), this may be an issue only for men of a certain age.

My age, to be specific.

I have an iPhone SE. It was provided by my employer, who also pays the monthly bill for it. Free phone, free data. That's a deal I can get behind.

This phone fits easily into my pants pockets, whether I'm wearing dress pants or jeans. Its relative portability is one of its strong points, as far as I'm concerned.

But there is a price to pay for a smaller phone.

If, like me, you have reached a point in life where reading glasses are a key element of your daily existence, a small phone screen can be a problem. You can't always tell what you're looking at when watching a video or looking at a photo. Text defaults to an impossibly tiny point size unless you're proactive in doing something about it.

It is, in short, quite often a pain.

I have thought about upgrading to a larger phone and footing the bill myself, but the issues there are patently obvious:

1. The whole "footing the bill myself" thing
2. The inability to stuff said phone conveniently into a pants pocket

The solution is likely a foldable phone. The trouble there? I'm an Apple/iPhone guy, and currently available foldable phones are all Android/Google-based. Apple is planning to release a foldable phone, but last I checked, this little piece of technology is at least two years away from hitting the market.

I could be legally blind by that point.

On balance, I guess I'll keep my free SE and squint every morning as I watch NHL hockey highlights on its tiny screen.

It's better than carrying around a much larger device, at least for me.

You know you're first-world spoiled when something like this is among the toughest issues you're wrestling with in life.

I have Chapsticks and reading glasses stashed everywhere

It feels like a very middle-aged person thing to say, but no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'm never very far from a pair of reading glasses or a tube of Chapstick.

I make sure of this by keeping glasses and Chapsticks everywhere I'm likely to be, from my nightstand and PA announcing bag to the glove compartment in my car and the top desk drawer in my office.

Reading glasses are a relatively recent must-have, but my dependence on Chapstick is longstanding. My lips chap easily, or at least I've always thought they chap easily, which is really the same thing.

I use the word "dependence" intentionally, by the way, since a quick Google search suggests there's no such thing as lip balm "addiction." Yet I wouldn't have been surprised to find it's a real thing.

If I go, say, 3-4 hours without applying Chapstick, my lips always start to feel a little raw and irritated. Chapstick solves this problem almost immediately, so I stock up and carry it around as if my life depended on it.

Which, again, it doesn't. It's more a habit than an absolute physical need.

As for reading glasses, well, I've covered this topic before, and there's no denying the need is there. Until my early 50s, I could read just about anything unaided. Now, however, you'll constantly find me holding books, menus and other printed material at arm's length to get the words to come into focus.

So pretty much everywhere I keep a Chapstick I also keep a pair of cheap reading glasses. The magnification I require is pretty low, as these things go, but I know my current 1.5x prescription will creep higher and higher as the years go on.

As far as I know, there's simply no avoiding it.

So I'm trying to embrace it. Chapped lips I've never embraced, but blurry words on a page? That I can (mostly) live with.

What I like and don't like about my new pair of reading glasses

I don't mean to keep harping on this, but with my eyes having recently made the decision that they're no longer going to work especially hard to read small print, I had to make a trip to CVS to get my first pair of readers.

This, mind you, happened in the same week I saw a gastroenterologist in preparation for my first colonoscopy. We in Team Scott (that is to say, me) are reeling a little when it comes to the age-related milestones.

Anyway, I bought these glasses and they do their job, which is great. A quick rundown:

WHAT I LIKE

• They look good. At first I only saw colorful "fashion" readers on the rack, and I thought I was either going to have to buy a pair of leopard skin frames or walk away empty-handed. Thankfully, I turned around and saw another display of readers, many of which were made for middle-of-the-road suburban dads like me.
• They were easy to get used to. I figured it would take some period of adjustment before I really made full use of these glasses, but I had no problems from the outset. I mostly need them for reading actual print material, and even then only occasionally. So far they're doing exactly what they're supposed to.

WHAT I DON'T LIKE

• The price. I got hornswoggled here. These are Foster Grant glasses, so I didn't really blink when I saw the $31 price tag. Only later when I got home and asked Terry how much she pays for her reading glasses did I find out that hers are usually $5 or $10 from Marc's. I should have checked into it before venturing out. On the plus side, they look really nice. Did I mention that?
• The fact that I need them at all. Allow me some period of whining during which I will complain about having to buy a pair of readers in the first place. I'll get over it in time. (In the interim, when did Apple decide to start using blurry text on the iPhone? Feels it just happened recently. I'm calling someone to register a protest...assuming I can see the numbers on my phone.)

My eyes have suddenly (and very rudely) betrayed me

A few months ago I posted about the fact that I still, in my early 50s, had no need for reading glasses.

I tried to say it humbly, but honestly, I think I was bragging a little.

Enter karma, stage left...

Since mid-summer or so, I've noticed that small text on my phone and computer screen is blurry and difficult to read. It wasn't blurry in the spring, and now it is.

I always assumed my eyes would age very gradually, but it feels like they went directly on the visual spectrum from "Eagle Eye" to "Blind as a Bat." And there's no denying the fact that I could now really use a few pairs of reading glasses.

I've already given in and adjusted the default text size on my iPhone, which felt a bit like an unwelcome milestone. It was a lot like my transition from running to walking: I did it, but I did it grudgingly.

Apart from Jesus and actor Paul Rudd, Father Time is undefeated in his dealings with humankind. It may take longer with some of us than others, but the fact is, we will all succumb eventually.

This admittedly is a very minor inconvenience in the grand scheme, and I'm blessed to have good health in just about all of my other physical processes. After I finish this post, I will search online for one of those inspirational memes that helps us remember to count our blessings.

Not that I'll be able to read it, but I'm sure this laptop has a text magnification button.

I know the reading glasses are coming, but so far I've managed to hold them off

 

A couple of weeks ago, a reader asked if I could please increase the font size of the posts on this blog, as the default size was relatively small and could be difficult to read.

It took a few minutes to figure it out, but I managed to bump up the point size of all posts on the blog permanently (or at least, as of this writing, I think I did).

He/she asked for this change "for visually impaired older folks," and gently reminded me that I would at some point be joining their ranks.

Which is undoubtedly correct. Just not yet.

More than once here I've wondered when I'm going to need to start wearing reading glasses. It's of course not a matter of "if" but "when."

Still, right now, at the ripe old age of 51 1/2, the cheaters are not yet a part of my life.

I can still read books and newspapers without the benefit of visual augmentation, and I can do it without having to hold them way out at arm's length.

The reason, my eye doctor tells me, is because I had LASIK surgery 20 years ago, and that actually bought me some time when it comes to seeing things that are close by. I had the procedure done to enhance my distance vision, so this added bonus on the other end of the spectrum two decades later has been nice.

But it will go away, and likely very soon.

My wife has needed reading glasses for a number of years, as have many of the people with whom I graduated from high school. It happens. You buy yourself a bunch of cheap pairs from CVS and you keep them in spaces where you're likely to need them (your living room, your kitchen, your car, your bedroom, etc.), and you're fine.

I'll get there. But in the meantime, you'll excuse me while I go read something written in 8-point type and mock my peers who cannot achieve this feat of superhuman visual acuity.

I'm going to need reading glasses soon, right?

There are many signs that I have aged over the last 10 to 20 years, including (but not limited to) a distinct lack of hair at the top of my head, a few varicose veins on my legs, and a general crankiness that I can only assume will get worse as time goes on.

But somehow, inexplicably to me, I have reached the age of 45 and have no trouble reading small print.

Many others my age – and my lovely wife is a member of this group – wear reading glasses and/or have to hold documents with tiny type at arm's length in order to have any shot at reading them.

Not me, though. At least not yet. I know it's coming, but for now I can still read even the hardest-to-decipher sections of the newspaper without the aid of optical enhancement.

(NOTE: That I still read a newspaper is, in fact, another sign that I'm not as young as I used to be.)

I had Lasik surgery 14 years ago this week, but as I understand it, it only affected my near-sightedness. The doc even told me that the procedure, which by the way has been everything it was cracked up to be and more, would not obviate the need for reading glasses.

(ANOTHER NOTE: I like the word "obviate." I could have gone with an easier word there, but I chose "obviate" because I'm just that kind of etymological rebel.)

So I'm waiting. The first time I have to break down and buy a pair of reading glasses, I will do it with some pride, knowing I held out as long as I possibly could. But until then, my youthful eyes and I will continue on our merry, unaugmented way.

It will come in handy when I have to read the small print on the contract I sign before I undergo laser surgery for these varicose veins.